Harry Potter and the Dementor's Kiss
by Twisted-Fate
Summary: Year 6 at Hogwarts. A new threat has surfaced like never before... dementors attacking people wildly, the new and mysterious DADA teacher, Percy Weasley returning, and all wrapped up in a nice neat plot. R
1. 1 Back to the Burrow

Harry Potter and the Dementor's Kiss

**********

Notes: After reading OotP several times and toying with a few ideas I had, I've decided to create my own sort of Year 6. I apologize that I am not British, so I may have the completely wrong idea going on with the accents I've tried to emulate, but I'm sure you can bear with me because I'm staying as true to the books as possible. Yes, sorry for all you fans expecting H/H or D/G or something of the sort. Also, if anyone is kind enough to point out continuity errors or anything of the sort I'd appreciate it.

  


For anyone curious (highly unlikely) I've done this in WordPerfect 10 and used a very simple feature where the program automatically changes the document to HTML format. That's how I managed to get in the italics, boldface, etc.

  


Also, for anyone who has read my previous (now void) work (also highly unlikely) you'll find that my writing style has largely changed, some, of course, influenced by reading Harry Potter and The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy quite obsessively...

  


After this chapter updates might be slow for a week, during which I'll be typing up some extra chapters to work in foreshadowing, etc. After that updates should be steady, at least one chapter every three days.

  


Chapter One

Back to the Burrow

**********

Harry's feelings of intense hatred toward the Dursleys had cooled somewhat over the summer. He expected that part of it must have been because of Uncle Vernon's little encounter with Mad-Eye Moody at the beginning of the summer, the other part being the howler sent to Aunt Petunia from Professor Dumbledore at the end of the last summer, practically a year ago.

  


Yes, Harry remembered very well the attack from the dementors the previous year quite vividly. The funny thing was that Dudley didn't seem to remember. Dudley was stubborn in his argument, insisting that Harry had attacked him maliciously. Vernon and Petunia definitely believed him, but there was nothing they dared do; evidently they were mortified of their mental images of Nymphadora Tonks walking up their front driveway and knocking on the door.

  


This summer was not nearly as hot as the last, therefore Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia took every opportunity they could to get out of the house—but more importantly, away from Harry Potter. Whether it was a trip to the mall, a long stroll through the park, or a visit to their (quite imaginary) relatives in Germany (this was just an excuse they gave to inquiring neighbors, who wondered why they were pulling out of the drive at ungodly hours in the morning); Vernon and Petunia made sure they put many miles between them and Harry. Dudley, left on his own, took to vandalizing local recreation centers more than ever.

  


This left the whole house to Harry, who made sure to capitalize on the occasion. Now he spread himself on the couch, reading the latest edition of _The Daily Prophet_ (which Hermione most forcefully insisted he subscribe to) which was loaded up, it seemed, with more bull than _The Quibbler_. However, Harry had to admit that it was interesting, watching photos of a quite unnerved Cornelius Fudge pacing his press room, muttering something to himself and wiping his brow with a soaked handkerchief. It wasn't Cornelius's choice whether the photos looked like this or not, the photos were magically enhanced to display the actual mood of whoever it was capturing.

  


Harry stuffed himself with the multiple pies Mrs. Weasley had sent him and sipped his butterbeer through a straw (the butterbeer had been charmed so that it couldn't spill while Hedwig carried it). The television was on and turned to the news, which was now covering children's opinions on foreign relations. Humorous as it was to see the kindergartners struggle with the word, "Yugoslavia," Harry's frustration mounted. No signs of Voldemort taking action. No deaths, explosions, disappearances, no nothing. Not even _The Daily Prophet_ had anything good to say, despite the fact that Fudge had gone public about Voldemort's rise to power. Harry wasn't sure if the Ministry of Magic was still trying to cover it up or if they honestly had no news.

  


Meanwhile Ron and Hermione were flooding him with letters asking how he was (well, not so much Ron's letters; Ron wasn't great at writing letters... Hermione usually wrote anything Ron wanted to say in her letters), and there was a letter from Hagrid promising new and exciting creatures and explaining how Grawp had "cutely" ripped up a few trees from the Forbidden Forest and laid them out to spell HUGR. Hagrid added that he wasn't sure whether Grawp was trying to spell "Hagrid" or "hungry." He had also received a letter of apology from Fudge. The letter, in Harry's opinion, reeked of dishonesty and quite bluntly sounded like a re-worded version of a form letter addressed to someone who was politely being put down for a job application. It read simply:

  
  


Dear Harry Potter,

We deeply regret doubting your word on He-Who-Must-Not-Be-

Named's return, and we apologize. We here at the Ministry of Magic once 

again apologize at this inconvenience, and do hope feelings are not tense. You 

must understand our reluctance at admitting such a powerful threat is active 

once again.

  


Have a good year at Hogwarts,

Sincerely, C. Fudge & Staff

  


Now opening a packet of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans and propping _The Daily Prophet_ open on the coffee table with his butterbeer, Harry gave a start as there was a loud knocking at the door.

  


Harry's first impression was that the Dursleys had arrive home early for the day, but he realized that the Dursleys had no reason to knock at the door, since they had the key and could unlock the door. Harry hastily hid the evidence of magical items, stuffing the butterbeer in the refrigerator and stuffing _The Daily Prophet_ and _The Quibbler_ on the magazine rack, covered up by Vernon's copy of _Drills Weekly_ and Petunia's edition of _Celebrity Marriages_. After wolfing down Mrs. Weasley's pie he ran over to the door and finally opened it.

  


"Oh, er, hello, Mrs. Figg!" Harry exclaimed, stunned. What in the world was she doing here?

  


"Why hello, Mr. Dursley. Listen, I've decided to take Harry off your hands for the day—err, you're not Mr. Dursley, are you?" Mrs. Figg's obviously well-thought-out speech was cut off as she glanced at Harry. "Well then," said Mrs. Figg, straightening herself up, "is your Uncle home?"

  


"No," replied Harry, "I think he's at the park... or the mall... well, I'm not quite sure, actually."

  


"Nevermind, then, we'll leave a note. Come on, then, be quick, pack your things, I'm on a tight schedule." She looked at her wrist, evidently forgetting that she wasn't wearing a wristwatch.

  


"My things? What? Where are we going?" Harry said, half scared. "Listen," he added, "I'm sure your cats aren't _that_ thrilled about seeing me... I mean, I'm kind of busy..."

  


"No, no, no," Mrs. Figg said, exasperated. "Get your _things_. I have to take you to the Weasleys'. Dumbledore's orders, you know. He would have sent someone else but they're quite busy with... well, anyhow, you need to hurry."

  


"Oh!" Harry suddenly lit up. "Oh, right, of course... well then, I'll get my stuff..." He pranced off, and a few minutes later returned with a large amount of clothes and books in his hands, at the top of which Hedwig tittered angrily from her cage; she had just been disturbed from one of her three midday naps.

  


"Off we go, then," said Mrs. Figg after she scribbled a small note and stuck it on the refrigerator (where, she assured Harry, Dudley was _sure_ to spot it).

  


A few times along the short walk to Mrs. Figg's house Hedwig had fluttered about so much in her cage that Harry couldn't keep balance and fell over, undoubtedly attracting the indignant stares of many of the neighbors, to which Mrs. Figg paid no heed. As Mrs. Figg unlocked the door the dreaded smell of cabbage and cat litter invaded Harry's nostrils again. Hedwig had been dreading it too; she fluttered about in her cage to madly that Mrs. Figg had practically urged Harry to put a freezing spell on Hedwig, but Harry politely declined.

  


But Harry's jaw dropped when he saw Mrs. Figg's fireplace. "Cramped" couldn't even begin to describe it. It was two feet tall and four feet wide, Harry had to lay on his side to fit inside of it, and his belongings were shoved uncomfortably in with him. Harry dropped the Floo Powder weakly (if at all possible to drop anything weakly) and felt his surroundings change and whirl.

  


"Do fare well!" he heard Mrs. Figg's faint voice cry, and suddenly as the whirling started it stopped. Harry had a strange feeling like jetlag, and he tried not to breathe as much as possible lest he inhale ashes. He had experienced the inhalation of ashes before, and could be the first to tell you it was quite unpleasant.

  


Harry saw a ring of unmistakably red-haired Weasleys standing around him eagerly. He stood up and some of the ash fell off him, but none of them seemed to mind.

  


"About time you arrived, Harry!" said Fred, brandishing some kind of Skiving Snackbox in his face and grinning devilishly.

  


"Yeah, we need you to test some of these. Ron had some quite unexpected results while testing them..." cut in George.

  


"And Hermione refused to touch 'em," Fred said, frowning.

  


"Can't blame her," Harry distinctly heard Ron mutter, scratching at a lump on his bottom. Harry pretended not to notice—he had heard Fred and George complaining about the same sort of lumps the year before.

  


"Oh, no," said Harry, "I... er, I'll pass..."

  


"Come on... they can't hurt..." said George, pretending to be hurt.

  


"Yeah, we won't feel a thing!" added Fred, grinning.

  


"That's quite enough!" Mrs. Weasley interjected. "Go on now... he has to get cleaned up. Right this way, Harry." Harry knew where the shower was perfectly well, but he allowed Mrs. Weasley to guide him there while Ron and Ginny helped take his ash-covered stuff up to Ron's room (which Harry felt rather guilty about, seeing as how Ron's room was cramped enough already).

  


Harry turned on the water, or at least he tried. Nothing happened. He reported this to Mrs. Weasley, who frowned and nodded. "Yes, it has been acting up a bit. I'm not sure what the problem is." Harry thought he heard a clanking in the pipes, but dismissed it. Perhaps the water heater was warming itself up. Then he thought again. In a magical place like the Burrow, were water heaters necessary?

  


He had no more time to ponder this as a small trickle of water began to drip from the faucet. It quickly became a steady stream, and Harry was satisfied.

  


After showering Harry ran downstairs, eager to converse with Ron and Ginny. But before he could reach them Mr. Weasley cut him off, looking happy about something.

  


"Ah yes, Harry, er... listen, I've been meaning to talk to you for some time... follow me, please."

  


Harry faltered. He opened his mouth as to say 'no,' but the look of raw enthusiasm on Arthur Weasley's face made Harry change his mind. "Sure, alright, then."

  


He followed Arthur Weasley down into a section of the Burrow that Harry had never seen before—the basement. Harry could tell immediately that this was Mr. Weasley's workshop. The walls were covered with various muggle artifacts, things that up until Harry was eleven he had considered items of everyday life. Lightbulbs, radios, pencils, and toilet seats lined the shelves, all labeled with poor but understandable writing: "Litebulbs, raydeeo's, pensills, toylit seets..."

  


In the center of the large basement was something caught Harry's eye. It looked like a sloppy, enlarged version of one of Dudley's computers. Of course, to even begin to call it a computer would be wrong. "Mathematical apparatus" would be more correct.

  


"Excuse me..." Harry said, tapping Arthur's shoulder. "Er, what's —"

  


"Yes, Harry, it's a... er, what do the muggles call it? A _commuter_, I believe."

  


"That's a computer?"

  


"Yes, really genius, isn't it, Harry? It runs on magic."

  


"Er, yeah, genius," Harry pushed forth a light smile. "Er, how do you turn it on?"

  


"Turn it on?" Mr. Weasley repeated, puzzled. "Whatever are you talking about?"

  


"I mean," said Harry slowly, "how does it work?"

  


"Very simply like this," Mr. Weasley demonstrated, waving his wand with three flicks and saying, "_Indicium_." The "monitor" began to glow, and Harry saw that Mr. Weasley used his wand to direct a miniature hand on-screen. "Yes," said Arthur, looking extremely proud of himself. "Yes, I've got all of the latest case data stored on here. Look Harry, remember Sturgis Podmore? Well we convicted him finally, with permission from Fudge." He looked rather sour at the name of Fudge—over summer Albus Dumbledore had explained to him who exactly Umbridge had been, and it was very clear who, between Dumbledore and Fudge, Mr. Weasley preferred. Harry grinned.

  


"That's fantastic," he said.

  


"Yes, isn't it?" Arthur was making no effort to contain his glee.

  


"What did Molly think of it?" Harry wondered, accidentally aloud.

  


"Oh, promise you won't tell," Arthur whispered urgently, looking around as if to make sure Mrs. Weasley wasn't eavesdropping on them. "She really doesn't approve, you know. She says she doesn't want another _explosion_ in the house..."

  


"Explosion...?" began Harry, but he was cut off as he heard Mrs. Weasley shriek.

  


"Ahem, best be off then," Mr. Weasley said quietly, shooing Harry out of the basement.

  


As Harry entered the kitchen he could her Molly Weasley upstairs, hollering at Ron with an almost hoarse voice. Harry immediately knew what she was yelling about.

  


"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU HAVEN'T GOT ANYTHING ON YOUR BOTTOM? I CAN SEE IT! COME HERE, RON! OH, STOP BEING A BABY, IT'S CLEAR AS DAYLIGHT!"

  


He heard scuffling upstairs, and decided it best not to investigate. Instead he sat down at the table, eyeing an article from _The Daily Prophet_ that had been cut out.

  


"RON, STAY STILL, I'M NOT TRYING TO KILL YOU! ALTHOUGH, IF YOU DON'T STOP SQUIRMING MAYBE I _WILL_!"

  


Trying as best as he could to ignore this, Harry examined the article curiously. It read:

  


_Yesterday the Ministry of Magic arrested two men for using magic in front of muggles._

  


Harry recognized this article, he had just been reading it. Harry had not stopped to consider this particular article important (he had passed over it very quickly, not taking in any of the details), but as he continued reading, it became more and more obvious that this article could be related to Voldemort and the Death Eaters.

  


_The two men were caught performing levitation spells in front of an audience of more than 10,000 muggles._

_ "I was just trying to make a bit of extra money, and have a bit of extra fun," claims one of the wizards, a thirty-year-old man named Brian Bennington. "There was really no harm in it."_

_The other wizard, Stephen Blitz, also denies that the muggles were in any danger whatsoever. "It was just a bit of sporting," he insists. "The muggles loved it."_

_ However, the Ministry of Magic has reason to believe that the two men were involved in a deeper scheme, dealing with the widespread murder_ _of muggle parents who had given birth to magical children. The two wizards faced charges of murder, illegal treatment of muggles, and of revealing the presence of wizards and witches to non-magical-related muggles._

_ During an interview regarding this subject, Arthur Weasley, head of the Department of Muggle Artifacts, stated that, "We are currently pressing charges, and are sure that these two men are indeed involved in what we here at the Ministry are calling the 'Muggle Assault.'"_

  


Harry stopped, startled. Surely Hermione's parents weren't...? But of course, they couldn't have been. They had to be smart enough to smell trouble. Besides, what were the chances?

  


"Oh, Harry!" said Mrs. Weasley, who was done fussing over Ron and not came down to greet Harry again. "Have you had a good summer?"

  


Mrs. Weasley asked this question every year, and every year Harry always replied, "It was okay."

  


But this year, the thoughts and memories of a terrified Petunia, Vernon, and Dudley brought a smile to Harry's face. "Couldn't have been better."

  


"That's nice, dear," said Mrs. Weasley, "Ron and Ginny are upstairs waiting to see you. I'll start on the supper, okay?" Harry looked at his watch. It was only four, but he didn't argue.

  


"Alright," said Harry, excusing himself and going upstairs. He took the article and put it in his pocket. It might be an interesting discussion point...

  


Upon entering Ron's room Harry found that his things had been neatly organized, including clothes, toothbrush, and bedcover. "Thanks," said Harry, blinking.

  


"It was Ginny's idea," said Ron, plainly disgruntled, shifting uneasily on his bed.

  


Ginny smiled. "Ron would have helped, but mum was too busy prying that whopping boil off of his– "

  


"Where's Hermione?" interrupted Harry rather rudely, but he was used to seeing Hermione's bushy hair somewhere in the house.

  


Ron muttered something that sounded like, "Advertising SPEW," and Harry decided he need ask no more.

  


"Anyway," Harry said, "look what I found downstairs." He showed them the article.

  


Ron took a glance at it, and nodded. "Yeah," he said grimly, "I saw that. Makes me sick. I mean, I don't care much for muggles, but murdering them just because they gave birth to magical children..." He didn't say it, but Harry could tell that he was thinking about Hermione's parents just like he had been.

  


"Dad's investigating this case," Ginny added, "but he wouldn't tell us much about it. He didn't even say anything about the case on the computer... believe me, we looked."

  


Harry raised his eyebrows. It looked as though Fred and George were starting to rub off on her.

  


As if on cue, Fred and George apparated into the room, landing neatly on Ron's bed and causing Ron to topple off, howling in pain as he landed on his rear-end.

  


"Hey there, Harry!" said Fred cheerfully. "We were just making sure that you didn't want to test some of our Deluxe Skiving Snackboxes."

  


"It's free, you know," nodded George, beckoning toward the box Fred was holding.

  


"Only costs a bit for shipping and handling, of course..." said Fred.

  


"Yes, it _will_ be quite a pain to carry you around everywhere," agreed George.

  


"Oh, but we understand if you say no," admitted Fred.

  


"After all, we're sure _Percy_ will have the stomach for these pills," George grinned devilishly.

  


"Whether or not we have to force them down."

  


Harry knew that they were certainly looking forward to force-feeding Percy the pills, whether or not Harry agreed to test the Deluxe Snackboxes.

  


"No, I value my rear end, if you please," said Harry honestly.

  


"Okay, since you're out financial backer, we'll let it slide," said George smoothly. In fact, they didn't seem at all upset that Harry hadn't wanted the snackboxes... indeed, it seemed quite the opposite. Fred and George disapparated at the same time.

  


"Scary, those two," Ron said glumly. "If you don't watch yourself they'll slip you a knock-out pill in your pumpkin juice, and next thing you know you'll be rolling around uncontrollably on the ground."

  


If Harry had to make a choice, he'd definitely assume that Ron was citing from experience.


	2. 2 Percy Weasley Returns

Harry Potter and the Dementor's Kiss

**********

Notes: Great darkness awaits the Order of the Phoenix this year. Darkness unpredictable and so cruel one shudders to think about it...

  


Ah yes, thanks, I knew I was getting _something_ wrong!

  


Chapter Two

Percy Weasley Returns

**********

Dinner was uneventful, as was the following evening. The next day, Harry woke up an hour before everyone else so that he could take a stroll outside.

  


The Burrow felt like his second home. He was safe here, and surrounded by... well, they felt like _family_. They felt like a family he had never known. As he walked about the garden, observing Mrs. Weasley's flowers, he found himself unconsciously wandering to something he kept locked far back in his mind... Sirius Black.

  


His death had not been like Cedric Diggory's death. Diggory's death had been cruel and malicious; Sirius's death had been swift and painless. However, Harry felt worse about Sirius's death than Cedric Diggory's. In fact, it seemed like he felt worse about Sirius's death than the death of his parents...

  


It was like Harry was lost, or at least the adventurous part of him was. Harry hated to admit it, but Hermione had been right: Sirius _had_ been trying to live through Harry. Harry didn't feel bad about this, instead, he felt a surge of pity. If only Sirius had been allowed to step outside the house, just one more time before he had died...

  


"You okay, Harry?" said a voice from behind him. Harry looked, and saw that Ginny Weasley had come out to meet him, still in her pajamas and rubbing her eyes.

  


"Oh, yeah. I'm–I'm fine. Just needed some air," Harry mumbled.

  


Ginny looked at him thoughtfully, then said, "You know, he wouldn't have wanted you to go around moping and feeling sorry."

  


This comment startled Harry; she had seen right through him. But at the same time Harry's mood lightened. "Yeah," said Harry, "I suppose you're right..."

  


A fluttering in the air caused Harry to look upward—there were five owls heading for the Burrow's kitchen. Normally Harry wouldn't have been able to hear the owls, but Errol's wild flapping made the owls quite obvious.

  


They walked back into the house together, and as they entered the kitchen they saw Mrs. Weasley preparing breakfast. Harry decided to tread cautiously in this room, not wanting to collide with any of the floating plates making their way from the drying rack back onto the table.

  


"Mail's on the table, dears," Mrs. Weasley said absently, levitating some spices into her omelet.

  


There were two letters addressed to Harry. He realized that one had to be his test results. He opened them eagerly.

  


He had done pretty well. The scores read out like this:

  


_Divination: P _(Harry had seen this coming, but didn't care. Divination wasn't required for becoming an Auror.)

  


_Charms: E_

  


_Transfiguration: E_

  


_Potions: E _(Harry looked at this grade with a sinking feeling. Hadn't McGonagall said that Snape didn't allow anything lower than Outstanding into his classes?)

  


_Defense Against the Dark Arts: O _(Harry cheered.)

  


_Care of Magical Creatures: E_

  


_Herbology: E_

  


_Overall: E_

  


_Comments from head-of-house: Potter has done well in all of his work (excluding Divination). His wide range of skills enables him to apply for several well-paying jobs. If he tried harder at potions, I'm sure he'd be an excellent Auror. I am especially pleased at his DADA score. _(Harry imagined McGonagall giving a wink.) _However, it should be stated that Potter has a certain disregard for some school rules._

  


He turned to look as Ron came down the steps and spotted his mail in Mrs. Weasley's hands. Ron scowled; he had not wanted to have his grades read by Mrs. Weasley (for more or less obvious reasons), but Mrs. Weasley was doing exactly that. She did not seem to approve very much, but Harry supposed that she had some tolerance after seeing Fred and George OWL grades...

  


"Ron," Mrs. Weasley said critically, "you could _definitely_ do with some improvement." She handed the papers to Ron, then looked at Harry. "May I see? I mean, I respect your decision if you don't want me to look..."

  


Ron flushed, his ears becoming scarlet.

  


"Oh, no, you can look if you like," said Harry politely, giving an apologetic shrug in Ron's direction.

  


As Mrs. Weasley examined his scores a very pleased looking Mr. Weasley entered the room. Upon seeing Mrs. Weasley the grin disappeared from his face; he was trying to hide his glee. Harry figured it had something to do with the computer in the basement.

  


"Good morning, everyone," he said, seating himself at the table and eyeing the flying dishes warily. "I see that you've all got your supply lists... honestly, it seems as though they come later and later every year..."

  


"Yes," said Mrs. Weasley, who had put down Harry's OWL sheet and had gone back to cooking her omelet. She continued seriously, "Arthur, dear, may we discuss your, er, _experiments_ that have been going on in the basement lately?"

  


Out of the corner of his eye Harry distinctly saw Arthur pale. The three teenagers quickly excused themselves and dashed out to the side garden before Mrs. Weasley got any more dangerous.

  


"_But I'm concerned about the safety of our children, Arthur,_" Harry heard Mrs. Weasley say.

  


"_What could possibly go wrong?_"

  


"_I recall a certain bewitched car..._" Mrs. Weasley said irritably. By now Ginny, Ron, and Harry were all listening intently at the side door, while Ron and Ginny threw pebbles at the lawn gnomes.

  


"_That was different, Molly... this isn't the same thing..._"

  


"_Well, what about that self-run lawnmower?_"

  


"_I didn't expect it to..._"

  


"_Of course you didn't _expect_ it to explode_,_ but you can't control this sort of thing!_"

  


Harry blinked at this bit of information, and Ron gestured toward a large patch of dead, black grass under a window to the side of them. Harry suddenly understood, playing out a fairly accurate mental picture in his mind.

  


Soon the three of them became bored of listening to Mrs. Weasley chew her husband out, and they started playing with lawn gnomes, throwing them at each other. Ron convinced Harry that this was okay, in fact, the gnomes even seemed to _enjoy_ this rough treatment.

  


Three gnomes had latched their little razor-sharp teeth into Harry's leg, while two had gotten Ron's leg and another two had stuck onto his arm.

  


Finally breakfast was ready. Nothing fascinating happened during breakfast, except that Fred and George apparated into their chairs, startling Mrs. Weasley. Mrs. Weasley screeched and several of the plates which had been washing themselves faltered; one or two of the plates crashed to the floor. Mrs. Weasley gave them a good mouthing off.

  


Also during breakfast Harry discovered that they would all be going to Diagon Alley the next day, since tomorrow was a special discount day at the bookstore, and for their sixth year they had to order a heavy amount of books. Among there were: _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6; The Advanced Book of Spells, Grade 1; Class B Magical Creatures; _and _How to React toward Hidden/Surprise Attackers: A Defense Against the Dark Arts Book for Celebrities and Important Wizards/Witches_. The last book had a really hefty title; Harry wondered how it would ever fit on the book cover.

  


After breakfast Hermione arrived, and as they went upstairs she began a long-winded explanation of how not many people were selfless enough to admit that house-elves deserved respect from their master wizards, and she criticized each and every one of the people who she saw scoff at her large SPEW poster.

  


Finally Harry had to give in to his conscience. "Listen, Hermione," he started. "Remember last year, when you made all those hats and socks for the house-elves, and you hid them?"

  


"Yes," she said cheerfully, despite the fact that her SPEW campaign at Diagon Alley had been a complete failure.

  


"Well, it turns out that Dobby was..." but Harry couldn't finish his sentence, as there was a loud knock at the front door and Harry heard a voice, which Harry had once remembered as snotty and indignant, now humbled and sorry.

  


"Mum? Mum, you home? Dad?"

  


Harry couldn't quite put a finger on whom it was, but Ron and Ginny could immediately. "Percy!" whispered Ron. He narrowed his eyes. "What could he _possibly_ want?" Harry remembered the letter that Percy had sent to Ron about Dumbledore and himself, and guessed that Ron remembered it as well. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny ran back downstairs.

  


Slowly the door crept open, revealing Percy. Despite being in a family not well off, Percy usually could keep himself well groomed and clean. But now he looked dirty and unkempt. He looked as if he had been attacked by something.

  


Upon hearing Percy's voice Mrs. Weasley rushed into the room. She gave a disapproving glance at his attire, but this look quickly vanished and she ran over to hug him. "Oh Percy, I _knew_ you'd come around!"

  


Percy accepted this affection from Mrs. Weasley, and gave her a light peck on the cheek. He really did look grateful that he was back, but he looked like he wanted to go to sleep more than anything. 

  


Suddenly Mr. Weasley appeared in the doorway of the stairs which led to the basement. He looked at Percy, who in turn looked at his feet (one could only guess what Percy's feet were looking at). "Glad you're back," Mr. Weasley said after a moment of silence. Harry knew what Mr. Weasley was really thinking—_Percy's information regarding Fudge will be great for the Order of the Phoenix..._

  


Harry studied Percy more closely. Percy was wearing a cloak on which the bottom foot of it had been ripped off. His tie hung to the side and his hair was disheveled. His face was covered with residue, as if he had stuck his face in a fireplace. His lower lip was bleeding in two different places, and one of his eyes were black. But it wasn't Percy's _appearance_ that made Harry uneasy... It was more like his—well, Harry couldn't tell. But there _was_ something drained about Percy...

  


"I'll put on the tea," said Mrs. Weasley. "You should go get yourself cleaned up, Percy." Percy nodded, obeying without argument.

  


Quietly, Hermione spoke exactly what Harry was thinking. "Don't you think there's something... _strange_... about him?"

  


"Of course!" snapped Ron quickly, "I mean, the nerve of him to just come barging in here looking like that, I'm surprised mum didn't send him back where he came with a nice kick in the—"

  


"_No, _Ron. I'm talking about... well, he just seemed _different, _if you know what I mean."

  


"Yeah," said Harry softly. "I know exactly what you mean."

  


Ron shrugged, evidently clueless. "Who's up for a game of wizard's chess?"

  


Harry, Hermione, and Ginny then proceeded to lose in six consecutive games of wizard's chess, before it was time for tea. They found Percy already downstairs and sipping his tea. He gave not one look in Harry's direction, nor his father's direction.

  


"So..." started Mrs. Weasley politely...

  


"I was fired," confessed Percy, in a flat tone. "Fudge fired me, that good for nothing son-of-a—"

  


"Fired!?" exclaimed Ron. "I thought you were Fudge's favorite... er... thing!" he ended lamely, as Percy gave him a mournful look.

  


"Fudge's mind works in... unique ways," he said simply.

  


"Yes, we are quite aware of that," Mr. Weasley spoke up, but still Percy avoided his glance. "Even though we already knew that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back, we're," (and by "we're" Arthur obviously was referring to the Order of the Phoenix) "quite baffled that Fudge has actually confessed his return."

  


"Well," said Percy darkly, "there are _many_ reasons Fudge has been fearing his return, the most of which would be Fudge's demotion."

  


Harry wondered what Fudge's demotion had to do with anything.

  


Mr. Weasley was intrigued by this new fact. "You don't say..."

  


Hermione sipped her tea rather quickly, and then pulled Harry, Ron, and Ginny (which was amazing since she only had two arms) away from the table, not caring that their tea had been forgotten.

  


"Hey!" hissed Ron. "What's this about?"

  


"Shh!" said Hermione. "Did you hear to what Percy said?"

  


"Yeah," said Ron, "he got fired..."

  


"No, not that!" Hermione had an exasperated tone. "I mean about Fudge..."

  


"His mind works in mysterious ways?" Harry guessed. She turned on him.

  


"Honestly, Harry, I'd at least think _you'd_ have listened."

  


"I know!" said Ginny. "It was about Fudge being demoted... right? But, why would Fudge be demoted if You-Know-Who returned? It doesn't seem related at all."

  


Hermione looked impressed. "Exactly! And here's why I think he would: Because the Ministry of Magic _has_ to tell lies, or whatever they have to in order to keep the people happy. So if they announced something like Voldemort's return, that would be exactly _not_ what the Ministry wants. See, listen—the Ministry want people to hear what they _want_ to hear. That's where they get help from _The Daily Prophet_."

  


"Well, that's obvious, I knew that already," said Ron truthfully.

  


"There's more," said Hermione. "_Other_ ministers have already been fired after revealing the truth." She seemed to pull a book out of nowhere. "See, look," she muttered, skimming the pages. "_Reagan_ _Love III... fired after confessing that the Ministry had hired dementors_ _to work the prisons. Richard Merron, fired after admitting that the Ministry had a werewolf hired in the Control of Magical Creatures_ _department._"

  


"But Fudge hasn't been fired because...?" Ron inquired.

  


"Because he has certain tie-ins keeping him in office, maybe even bribing other people to encourage them that he _should_ stay Minister," Hermione exclaimed, excitedly.

  


"Lucius Malfoy!" said Harry of-a-sudden.

  


"_Exactly!_"

  


Even a look of understanding dawned on Ron's face. "Oohhh...."

  


"Because Lucius is a Death Eater, and he _wants_ Fudge to keep telling people lies about Voldemort!" Hermione finished. She seemed bursting with glee at this sudden realization.

  


"But... but, Lucius is in prison, isn't he?" Ron wondered.

  


"Yes, but there could be other Death Eaters..." said Hermione.

  


"Working for the Ministry? Hmm..." said Ginny thoughtfully.

"Or," Harry realized, remembering what his "dreams" had told him the previous year, "There are people under the _Imperius _curse..."

  


"But who?" wondered Ron.

  


"Percy Weasley!" finished Hermione triumphantly.

  


The three of them stared at her, unable to tell whether she was fool or genius. One thing was sure—they would be keeping a close watch on Percy for the time being. Hermione had described the symptoms of _Imperius_ in great detail. "He's perfect for the spell," said Ron, shaking his head. "He never had any will of his own."


	3. 3 Invisible Ink

Harry Potter and the Dementor's Kiss

**********

Notes: Thanks to the nice person who pointed out that I mixed up _Crucitias_ and _Imperius_ in the last chapter. D'oh! Seems like such a stupid mistake... anyway...

  


Chapter Three

Invisible Ink

**********

"I still can't believe that Percy's being controlled by the Death Eaters," said Ron incredulously. "He's just so... _incompetent..._"

  


"Ron," Hermione said with a hint of affection, "you hardly know what the word 'incompetent' means."

  


"Oh yeah?" said Ron darkly. "I hear it all the time..."

  


Harry didn't doubt that.

  


"So Harry," Hermione said suddenly, "how was your summer?" Harry blinked, not at all expecting this change of conversation.

  


"Good," said Harry, giving her an inquisitive look. He realized what she was talking about when she mouthed, "Percy's coming!"

  


"Hide!" hissed Ginny, and they all ducked behind a handily protruding bookshelf which Harry had not noticed at all before.

  


They watched Percy pass. He seemed in a daze, and hardly avoided bumping into several objects, including chairs and the wall.

  


"He looks like..." observed Harry, remembering the look on Dudley's face from the previous summer. "He looks like he's been near dementors a lot..."

  


"But all of the ministry's dementors left," said Hermione. "They went to Voldemort, remember?"

  


They silently followed Percy up the steps and the hallway, where they had to stop because Percy entered his room and closed the door behind him. They listened closely to the door. Nothing could be made out except a slight scratching sound; a quill being dipped in ink and writing out a letter.

  


"Quick!" Hermione said, her face lighting up as if she had an idea, "follow me."

  


They crept stealthily downstairs (once again... Harry was getting tired of going up and down the steps) and this time went outside and into the backyard. Harry realized that they had a clear view of Percy's room from where they were.

  


"Wait here," said Hermione conspiratorially.

  


"_What_ is she up to?" wondered Ron. "D'you reckon she's gone crazy?" Harry shrugged, but by the looks of it, Ginny _did_ know what Hermione was doing.

  


"Get your wand ready," whispered Ginny. "We're going to capture the owl and read the letter."

  


"But won't Percy see?" Ron said, raising his eyebrows.

  


"What do you think Hermione's doing?"

  


"Getting ready to distract Percy?" guessed Harry. Ginny nodded.

  


"You people are mental," muttered Ron, but he obeyed along with Harry. Harry decided to use the _Accio_ spell; they weren't looking to hurt the owl.

  


They stood alertly on the grass for a few minutes, trying to ignore the increasing amount of lawn gnomes badgering them and biting at their heels. "He's writing a novel up there!" Ron moaned, shaking a few gnomes off that were climbing up his leg and getting uncomfortably high up.

  


Finally they saw the window open and the owl fly out. Many things happened at once.

  


There was a crashing sound from in the house. The window shut quickly, and they heard Percy leave his room to see what was happening. Harry said, "_Accio owl!"_ while at the same time Ginny said, "_Accio parchment!"_ Ron gave a frustrated shout and jumped; several gnomes were clawing at his torso and neck. Mrs. Weasley came running out to see why Ron had shouted, and caught them with Percy's owl and letter in hand. Then they heard Hermione yelp from inside the house.

  


Mrs. Weasley narrowed her eyes, looking straight at Ron (who, incidentally, was the one who _hadn't_ cast any spells or broken anything). "What is the meaning of this, Ronald Weasley!?" she breathed dangerously.

  


"Er–" said Harry, trying to think of something on the spur. "We... were... the owl... fell out of the sky, and we caught it." He felt absolutely terrible lying to Mrs. Weasley.

  


She raised her eyebrows as Ginny and Ron both nodded and avoided her stare.

  


"Right then," said Mrs. Weasley, "well, you three should—" But she was cut off as they heard Mr. Weasley calling, "dear, you might want to have a look at this..." Mrs. Weasley hurried away, leaving the three of them standing in the lawn, thankful but also curious at the interruption.

  


"Let's read it!" Ginny said brightly. She carefully opened the letter in a way so that it could be resealed by magic and appear not tampered with. The three of them looked eagerly at the letter.

  


"It's empty," said Ron blankly. And he was right—there was not a scratch nor a letter on the parchment. The owl Harry was clutching was nipping desperately at his arms, trying to escape. Harry didn't feel the owl. Instead, he was remembering a certain blank book from his second year. Tom Riddle's diary had been exactly the same.

  


"What d'you think it is?" Ginny wondered, flipping the parchment over to see if there was anything on the back. She held it up to the sun, but still, nothing was visible.

  


"Hermione will know," said Ron.

  


"What exactly did she do?" Harry asked Ginny.

  


"She broke some of mum's old china..." said Ginny with a wave of her hand, as if it were nothing important.

  


"She what!?" cried Ron, horrified.

  


"She can repair it!" Harry explained hastily. Ron was getting so red he might explode.

  


"C'mon," said Ginny, beckoning them to follow as they slipped quietly inside and up to Ron's room so that Percy didn't notice them. Hermione appeared a few minutes later, looking slightly winded for some reason.

  


"So, what does it say?"

  


"Nothing," answered Ginny.

  


Hermione gave her a quizzical look. "Let me see." She took the parchment and examined it. "Hmm, I think I know what this is... 

  


But before she could explain, there was a knock at Ron's bedroom door. It slowly opened, revealing—

  


"Luna?" Ron gaped at her. Of all the people he was expecting in his room, Luna Lovegood was not one of them. "But—but... what...."

  


Standing in the doorway wearing bright orange shorts and a green jacket which looked all too heavy for the summer, Luna grinned at them all. Ginny beamed at her, while Ron cowered in the corner and Harry and Hermione gave her friendly if not wary expressions. It's very cold in Greenland today," Luna said conversationally, letting Ginny take her jacket and hang it on a hook.

  


"My bladder is full," Ron said suddenly, practically running out of the room while Hermione rolled her eyes.

  


"What's that paper?" inquired Luna, staring at the parchment Hermione was clutching in her hands.

  


"Oh, nothing." Hermione quickly stuffed the parchment into her bag. "So how was your summer, Luna?"

  


"Very green," replied Luna, waving her hand vaguely. Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw Ginny hide a grin. "Like your eyes, they're really green..." continued Luna, now staring intently at Harry's eyes. Harry was unnerved.

  


"Er, yeah..."

  


There were a few moments of silence, during which Luna kept watching Harry's eyes, squinting now and then as if she were trying to get a clearer image. Harry was fiddling with his shoelace, trying to ignore Luna and Hermione took out a copy of _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5_ from last year and leafed through it.

  


Finally Hermione said, "I wonder what's taking him so long," and left the room. Ginny frowned, and said, "I hope he hasn't flushed his wand down the toilet again," and she followed Hermione.

  


Thankfully Luna seemed to be bored with Harry now, and she pulled a copy of _The Quibbler_ from nowhere and started reading it. It wasn't upside-down this time—Harry recognized it as the copy which held his interview with Rita Skeeter.

  


Then Luna leapt up, throwing down the copy of _The Quibbler_. She looked around to make sure nobody was watching her (ignoring Harry even though he was quite plainly staring at her) and grabbed Hermione's backpack and pulled out the parchment they had taken from Percy's owl.

  


"It's blank," Harry said.

  


"Who wrote this?" asked Luna, not hearing Harry.

  


"Percy," said Harry automatically. Then he did a double-take. "What do you mean, 'who wrote this?' What does it say?"

  


"_Sir, I've arrived at the Weasley residence and have settled here. They seemed to greet me readily enough. I'm just writing to confirm your predictions. He currently is not being protected by anything other than Arthur Weasley. From..._ I can't read this signature," Luna read the parchment loud and clear.

  


Harry snatched it from her. "It's still blank!" he exclaimed. "How...?"

  


There was a giggling from behind the door. Harry yanked it open, where he found Hermione, Ginny, and Ron were all listening in.

  


"What the bloody hell are you doing!?" Harry cried out, exasperated. He was utterly confused now.

  


"Rescuing Ron's wand," replied Ginny sheepishly.

  


"It was Ginny's idea!" Ron retorted quickly.

  


Harry blinked. "Explain."

  


Hermione coughed, Ron started at his shoes, and Ginny kept grinning sheepishly. "We were... err..."

  


"Why were you listening at the door?" Harry was trying to keep his cool. "What is _so important_ that you can't just come in here and..." slowly recognition dawned upon Harry's face. "Do you really think that Luna... and I..."

  


"Of course not, Harry!" Hermione said, rather too soon.

  


Luna was now staring at Percy's parchment upside-down.

  


"What is she doing?" Ron said, changing the subject swiftly.

  


Harry replied, "Beats me. She says she can read it, but I can't see a thing..."

  


"Read it?" interrupted Hermione. "But that parchment is in invisible ink. It takes a _really talented _wizard or witch to do that." Hermione obviously didn't see Luna Lovegood as a really talented witch.

  


"I don't understand," said Ron. "Invisible ink?"

  


"You write it with your wand," said Hermione. "About one out of a thousand wizards can read invisible ink, it's like retracting wand movements that have occurred on the paper." She lowered her voice. "Some people say that invisible ink is most easily read by masters of the dark arts..." Ron looked at Luna suddenly, afraid she might cast _Avada Kedavra_...

  


Ginny said, "Luna, could you please read it to us?"

  


Luna recited what she had just read to Harry, then sat down heavily on Ron's bed as if she was exhausted. She dropped the parchment, and before they knew it, she was curled up on Ron's bed and starting to sleep.

  


Before they left the room Harry paused and looked at Luna. She didn't look half as crazy when she was asleep. But how could Ron, Hermione, and Ginny possibly think that he and Luna...

  


He left the room and followed them, shaking his head.

  


Hermione was in very deep thought as they went back downstairs to have a snack. She didn't seem to be the only one as Mr. Weasley emerged from the basement. Arthur walked straight past them as if in a trance, he only nodded his head in acknowledgment when Ron said, "Hey dad." They watched him go outside, enter the car, and pull out of what was a makeshift driveway.

  


"Wonder what he's up to?" Ron said. 

  


Ginny shrugged. "He's always doing weird stuff." She then proceeded to tell Hermione about the computer in the basement, although Harry was pretty sure Hermione was not hearing a word Ginny was saying.

  


Right as soon as they were done snacking Harry received yet another surprise—it must have been the second or third of the day. At the front door there was a loud pounding and the walls shook. Harry knew instantly who it was: Hagrid.

  


"Why here?" wondered Hermione, who looked startled out of her thoughts.

  


"'Arry, I know yer in there! 'Urry up and get ou' here! I haven't got much time now!" A booming voice called. "Yeh don' need to pack anythin'... jus' get ou' here!"


End file.
